


Ghosts

by LoneWulffe



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: (this is what happens when you write out your feelings I think), Angst, F/M, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneWulffe/pseuds/LoneWulffe
Summary: "Past couple of months, when I dream, I see... I see Mon-El. With my mom."One is dead and the other isn't (how do you know- shutupshutupshutup), but both haunt her regardless.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> No betas were summoned from the afterlife to check this fic so feel free to haunt me in the comments section if you spot any errors.
> 
> While it does look like I chose the title for the angst points, Ghosts is actually the name of the demo version of I'm Not Calling You A Liar, the Florence + The Machine song I used for the fic's quote.
> 
> Before you read any further, I just want to say that while this is supposed to be set during the six-month timeskip and was inspired by the dream sequence and what Kara tells J'onn about it/them in 3x01, I fully expect it to be rendered non-canon in the near future. Honestly speaking, it doesn't even align with my personal theories about Kara's dreams but inspiration struck and I had to get it out of my system so here you go.

> _I'm not calling you a ghost_
> 
> _Just stop haunting me_
> 
> _And I love you so much_
> 
> _I'm going to let you kill me_
> 
> – _Florence + The Machine, I'm Not Calling You A Liar_

 

* * *

 

The details vary.

Sometimes she knows she's dreaming. Sometimes she doesn't.

Most of the time the location is familiar – her apartment, National City Park, the bar. Other times it's not – a field she's never seen before, a hall she's never set foot in her entire life. On some rare occasions, it's her home back on Krypton, just the way she remembers it last.

Not that any of it matters.

Nothing else does besides the fact that he's always there.

The sight of him never fails to take her breath away and she can hold back neither the tears nor the smile when she realises it's him.

And she always, always greets him with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

She dreams of her mother too, more often than not.

Alura never looks a day older than when Kara last saw her, her image preserved in Kara's mind like the hologram locked safely away in the DEO. The outfits are a variable, though, and she remembers how much she'd longed to grow up quickly just so she could wear even one of those beautiful dresses.

She lets herself imagine, some nights, what her mother would look like today if she were still alive. Wrinkles? A touch of grey in her hair? Or would Earth's yellow sun have extended her youth and forbidden time from changing her appearance?

But it's not like it matters, in the end.

Besides, she prefers it this way.

 

* * *

 

“How was your day?” Mon-El asks quietly, disturbing the bubble of comfortable silence that surrounds them.

They're curled up on the couch and half-cocooned in her blue blanket, their arms wrapped tight around each other and her head tucked under his chin. Audrey Hepburn is in the midst of being mistaken for a Hungarian princess on television but Kara is finding it hard to concentrate on the movie at the moment. Right now, she's too focused on the sound of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest. She'll make it up to Audrey later.

“The usual,” she shrugs ever so slightly. “Stopped a bank robbery, saved someone's life. I handled it.”

“That's my girl,” he murmurs and she can tell he is grinning softly by the curve of his lips as he presses them against her forehead. “What about work?”

She tenses for a brief moment before forcing her body to relax. “Nothing worth talking about,” she answers evasively.

“Kara...”

There is no avoiding him or his question – not when he says her name like that – so she screws her eyes shut and bites the bullet. “James still wants me to do that interview piece about the invasion.”

He shifts just enough that he can rub soothing circles into her back. “I'm guessing Supergirl's still too busy to sit down for a chat?”

“Pretty much.” She tightens her grip around his body and tries to burrow further into his embrace. “Can we please not talk about it? Let's just... stay like this. For as long as possible.”

“Okay,” he caves and drops another soft kiss on the top of her head. “It's okay.”

It's not – none of it is – but she chooses not to say anything.

 

* * *

 

“I'm very proud of you,” Alura tells her.

They're sitting on a bench in the garden of their home on Krypton with Rao shining down on them and there is no one else around aside from Mon-El. He stands a comfortable distance away looking at nothing in particular as if to give them some privacy but doesn't wander too far away that she cannot see him. It's as if he knows that she's afraid to lose sight of him – as if he knows that she fears he will disappear forever the moment she stops paying attention.

( _Of course he knows_ , a voice at the back of her mind points out. _He's just a figment of your dreams._ She ignores it.)

Kara offers her mother a brittle smile. “I didn't accomplish what you wanted me to do though. Kal grew up without me there to watch over him.”

“Oh, Kara, it's fine,” Alura says soothingly as she reaches out to grasp Kara's hand. “It was beyond your control. None of it was your fault. Besides, he still grew up into a wonderful young man. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“If you say so,” she murmurs and turns her hand around so that their palms are pressed against each other.

Her mother offers her an unreadable smile and thankfully says no more about the subject. “That aside, I'm glad you managed to find a family that took care of you so well yourself. And that you managed to forge your own path in life despite everything.”

“I'm sorry I didn't follow in your footsteps,” Kara blurts out, feeling compelled to explain herself for some reason. “I thought about studying law for a while but...”

“But...?” Alura prods her gently.

Her gaze flits from her mother's face down to their intertwined hands and back up again. “It hurt too much.”

The smile on Alura's face morphs into one of understanding. “Is that why you decided against studying science as well like your father did?”

At that, Kara thinks of another father who had also pursued that path and another daughter who had chased after his shadow time and time again. She thinks of where that path had led both of them, of the terrible choices and broken hearts left in their wake. “I didn't want to take that away from Alex,” is all she allows herself to say.

“You're their daughter too,” her mother reminds her.

“I was your daughter first,” she responds neutrally even as tears start to cloud her vision. “And I only ever wanted to be yours.”

Alura's smile remains in place although now it is lined with sadness. “We weren't perfect, Kara. You know this.”

“No,” she concedes, “but I loved you all the same.”

 

* * *

 

“I've never seen your father before,” Mon-El notes casually. “Any reason why?”

They're alone in her apartment where he is carefully stirring a pot of chicken stew while she watches from her perch on the kitchen island. It's quiet and peaceful – the kind of peace and quiet typically associated with lazy Sundays – just the way she likes it.

The question elicits a raised eyebrow from her although he doesn't see it. “Why do you want to meet him?”

He shrugs and spares her a glance over his shoulder before directing his attention back to his cooking. “It's not that I want to, really; I'm just curious. I mean, your mother shows up but not him.”

Kara thinks of the last time she saw her father's visage in the form of a hologram callously justifying the protection of Kryptonian lives at the cost of all others. “Considering he created the virus that nearly took your life, I don't see why you would be even remotely interested in this.”

“Ah, but you see,” he grins, “that's a good reason for me to meet him. I have to thank him for what he did. If I hadn't been about to die because of Medusa, I probably would never have worked up the courage to kiss you and subsequently confess my feelings to you.”

That startles a laugh out of her. “In that case, I think it would be a really bad idea for the two of you to meet.”

Her reaction earns her an affronted look. “What, you think he wouldn't have approved of us getting together?”

She gives him a flat look although its effectiveness is ruined somewhat by the upwards curl of her lips. “Mon-El, we technically started our relationship by having sex. Even if you don't factor in your identity, there's no way that would've sat well with him.”

“Correction.” He shuts off the stove before turning around and moving towards her. “It was really great sex.” She gives in easily when he nudges her knees apart so that he can stand so close to her that the space between their bodies is almost non-existent. “Fantastic, mind-blowing sex.” Smirking ever so slightly, he draws her into a deep kiss that has her gasping for air and chasing his lips when he pulls away. “More than once.” Her hands which had come to rest on his chest when he'd approached her curl involuntarily to grab fistfuls of his shirt as his fingers leisurely begin unbuttoning her blouse. “And you enjoyed it.” His mouth traces her jawline before trailing down her neck to find her erratic pulse. “Like you did every subsequent time.”

She forces her hands to unclench so that they can slide southwards to find the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. “Yeah,” she exhales shakily, “he _definitely_ wouldn't have approved.”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Alura starts in a deceptively calm and conversational tone. “The prince of Daxam.”

They're in the bar – possibly the last place Kara could ever imagine her mother being in but that's dream logic for you – sitting at one of the tables while Mon-El stands behind the bar humming Singin' in the Rain as he cleans the dozens of glasses in front of him.

“Former,” Kara corrects feebly, trying – and failing – not to squirm under her mother's laser-sharp scrutiny. “He abdicated.”

One of Alura's eyebrows arches. “Yes, that does make a great deal of difference.”

“Oh Rao...” she groans and fights the urge to bury her face in her hands. This is her dream, damnit; why won't the ground open up and swallow her like she wants it to right this second?

“I don't think I have to remind you about his reputation,” her mother states with a touch of admonishment in her voice.

“He's changed,” Kara argues, feeling the need to defend him especially when she knows he would be the first to agree with the many negative aspects of his past. “And I know he had the capacity to be a good person even then.”

“This is Daxam we're talking about, Kara,” Alura reminds her pointedly.

The smile Kara offers in response is a grim and sorrowful thing. “Krypton had its flaws too. You should know that better than anyone else.”

Her mother regards her carefully. “I see he changed you as much as you changed him,” she finally says with a sigh. “Did he love you?”

She thinks of his heartfelt confession as he admitted the truth behind his real identity and begged for her forgiveness, of the speed at which he'd been willing to surrender himself to his mother's cruel clutches in order to save her, of his resolute face as he'd encouraged her to damn him to save the world. She thinks of the little gestures of affection he'd showered her with, of his endless and varied endeavours to make her laugh, of the way he'd always looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire universe. “Yes,” she answers simply.

Alura nods ever so slightly. “And you loved him.” It sounds like both a question and a statement.

Her gaze is drawn to the bar where Mon-El is methodically cleaning yet another glass, oblivious to their conversation. “I still do,” she whispers.

 

* * *

 

“I think I hate you sometimes,” she confesses quietly and the words taste like ashes in her mouth even before they spill from her lips.

They're lying on a blanket in an open field while constellations she cannot identify shine down on them. Even though they're facing each other, there is a space between them that feels almost cavernous.

The look in Mon-El's eyes is more sorrowful than anything else. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” she chokes out as she tries her hardest to stop herself from crying. “It's not your fault I love you so much.”

“You can't stay like this forever,” he tells her gently. “You'll break eventually.”

“That's where you're wrong. I'm the Girl of Steel, remember?” she jokes weakly. “I don't bend and I don't break.”

“Kara...” he starts but whatever he intends to say is lost when she cuts him off.

“I'm afraid,” she blurts out, uncaring of the fact that she has lost the battle to keep the tears at bay. “I'm afraid that one of these nights, I won't see you in my dreams and that'll be the end of it. I'll have lost you in every possible way and I can't... I can't take it. I've lost too much already. I don't want to lose this too.”

That's the part no one around her seems to understand.

They look at her and see Kara Danvers, the girl who lost her boyfriend.

But she is Kara Zor-El first and foremost, and Kara Zor-El is the girl who lost her home and then found a piece of it unexpectedly after so many years only to lose that too. And this time, she'd been the one to cut it out of her life herself.

She thinks of her final moments with her mother – of a necklace given as a token of remembrance and a pod sent away in order to save the person inside from a terrible fate – and wonders if her life is meant to be a story of heartbreaks and farewells on repeat.

“I'm sorry,” is all Mon-El seems to be able to say as he lifts his hand to brush her tears away.

“So am I,” she replies and reaches out to touch his face in a perfect mirror of his actions.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up with her hand outstretched, but there is only air in the spaces where he used to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: I've actually been working on another fic idea the past week or so which has proved to be a little trickier than initially expected but then 3x01's dream sequence happened and it left me feeling so many things that I had to process them by writing this. If it felt like a bit of a mess to you, that's probably why so sorry about that. Please excuse the length as well; I know it's not even half as long as the stuff I usually produce. In any case, I hope this tides you guys over while I continue working on that other idea I benched to get this out.
> 
> Also, let's all congratulate ourselves on having survived the hiatus only to die within the first minute of the season premiere because who actually expected we'd get a Karamel kiss to kick off season 3? Certainly not me, that's for sure.


End file.
